


On The Other Foot

by BeautifulForMyLove



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Codependency, Gen, Hallucinations, Illnesses, Medical Procedures, Neurological Disorders, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Survival, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulForMyLove/pseuds/BeautifulForMyLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place in MomentumDeferred fic Sunshine. Go check it out!!!</p><p>http://archiveofourown.org/works/4217547/chapters/9534300 </p><p>Foggy and Matt go out on a simple supply run but of course in this world gone down the toilet things are never easy. All the caring Foggy has done for Matt is about to be repaid in so many ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Other Foot

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4217547) by [MomentumDeferred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MomentumDeferred/pseuds/MomentumDeferred). 



Foggy woke up to a warm puddle of drool dribbling its way down his neck. 

_Gross_.

He sighed. That's what happened when you had a half-feral best friend who had no concept of personal space.

He shifted on the futon that they had the audacity to call a bed and the lump of human draped over him grumbled in protest.

"Come on, man. You're going to drown me."

Matt had his face pushed up into Foggy's neck and his good hand fisted in his threadbare shirt. Matt's hair was sticking out everywhere and no matter how much Foggy moved, it still tickled his face .

It smelled like sweat, and dust from the broken city outside.

He shoved Matt off him and moved to sit up on the futon. A wad of blanket unerringly smacked him in the back of the head.

"Hm... Foggy, not d-down."

"Yeah, whatever, man. And it's drown. With an 'r'." 

Matt mumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket he had just thrown back over himself, burrowing deeper into his nest of covers. He was snoring in a few seconds.

He seemed to never be able to get enough sleep-- he was always exhausted. Thank you, brain eating virus. 

Foggy scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake himself up. 

He looked over at Karen, who was still asleep on the couch across the room. She was snuggled under her blanket, feet tucked up close to her body, snoring softly. 

She had been in the garage late last night, working on one of her projects. She spent most of her time down there, doing God knows what, all day long. She always seemed to have something to occupy her time. 

Lucky.

The poisoned sun was just starting to creep up on them, casting green light through the window, breaking up the shadows in the apartment.

Foggy looked around the small space they called home.

His and Matt's futon and Karen's couch took up most of the living space in the room. Matt's curtain rod and backpack were resting in the corner, along with his tactile collection that contained everything from fuzzy pink dice to a ring of random keys. 

Foggy had his corner with a threadbare chair, the one that in any other world-- especially one that hadn't been reduced to rubble by aliens and feral humans-- would have been thrown out. His medical textbooks, notebooks, and his medical bag sat scattered around it.

They didn't have much, and all of it had been hard fought for. Mostly by Matt. 

At least we have each other.

Foggy groaned and rolled his eyes .

True or not, that was sappay ass shit.

He pushed himself up from the futon and made his way to the bathroom. When he was finished he went to the kitchen to see what he could cobble together for breakfast.

Mmm...cobbler. His mom had made the best cobbler. Mostly at Thanksgiving with all the fam-

_ Nope. Stop that train right there.  _

Foggy knew he would work himself down into a full slump if he thought too much about everything he had lost.

Everyone he had lost. 

Back to breakfast. They were really running low on a lot of things. Food and medical supplies were always on the top of the list for Matt to be on the lookout for, but they needed a focused run soon. Build their supplies back up. 

They were down to ramen noodles and a cardboard box of mystery cans. They had already eaten the ones they could identify.

Foggy chose a can and set to opening it up. This caught Matt's attention immediately, like it always did, and he came shuffling into the kitchen with a yawn. He hopped up onto his usual spot on the countertop as Foggy continued to work the can open. 

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty. You hungry?" 

Matt cocked his head in that stupid adorable puppy way and looked in Foggy's direction.

"Foggy, yes."

It spoke to how tired Matt was that he didn't ask what Sleeping Beauty was. Maybe Foggy would tell him the story later. He would probably like it. He finally got the can lid open. Score!

"Good, 'cause you're going to love this, Matty."

He poured a third of the can's contents into a small bowl and cut it into smaller, more manageable pieces before putting it on the counter by Matt along with a spoon. He hopped down and gave the bowl a sniff before taking a bite. 

They had decided it was easier on Matt to eat this way, when it was something small that could get all over the place if his tremor acted up. Especially after the Cheerios meltdown. 

To say that day was a train wreck was a massive understatement. 

Matt left the bowl on the counter and used his good hand to scoop out his breakfast, leaving his shaking left hand resting next to the bowl. A glowing grin spread across his face. 

"Foggy, what is? Tastes. Very a lot."

He shoveled another spoonful into his mouth. Foggy swallowed his own bite.

"I'll tell you when you ask properly. I know you can."

Matt rolled his eyes, which, _how does that even work?_

"Foggy, what is this?" 

"Good job. It's apple pie filling. You remember the cake we made? Well, a pie is like that, only it has this in the middle of it, not just more cake." 

Matt hummed in approval, and kept eating. They were finishing off their apples when Karen walked into the kitchen, all grumpy faced with her socked feet. Such a dork. 

"Karen, app-p-lie."

Matt was all sparkle-eyed at the new taste he was experiencing. Unfortunately, Karen was not awake enough to translate Matt-speak yet. Or, apparently, to interact with him at all. She gave him a look that he'd never see, and didn't respond. Foggy attempted a smile, because it was far too early for an argument, and held out the bowl he had dished up for her.

"It's apple pie filling, and it's freaking awesome. Try some." 

She walked around the opposite side of the kitchen and took the bowl from Foggy. Keeping her eye and a gulf of distance between her and Matt, she went back to the living room, and ate on the couch in silence. 

Damn.

Matt's shoulders slumped a little. He knew how Karen felt about him, how she was still so tense when he was near her. And he was trying so hard. Someday, buddy, just keep at it. She's bound to see you sooner or later. 

SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSs 

Foggy spent the morning trying to keep Matt in the apartment long enough to go over their supplies and make a list of things they needed. It was not an easy task. 

Within minutes Matt was grumbling, pacing around, trying to tell Foggy to go faster without having to say the actual words. He ended up giving up on the pacing and lying down with his feet on the futon and his head hanging over the edge, his hair brushing the dirty carpet, waiting. He tossed a ball he got from God-knows-where into the air and catching it, over and over, as he, of course, never even looked in the direction of the ball. It was half freaky and half awesome, all miracle. 

Then Matt decided it was way more fun to throw it against the wall. Loudly. It made a series of hollow thumps each time he did it, bouncing it from the wall to the ceiling and back down. Foggy tried to keep focused on his inventory and list-making, but it was hard with the constant drumming of the ball. Karen was going to come storming up from the garage any second. He sighed and put his notebook down.

"Can you just be patient for a little while longer? I know you want to go, but being annoying is only going to make this take longer. Okay, buddy?" 

Matt turned his head in Foggy's direction. 

"Foggy. I am not... this. Annoy," he said, with a total shit-eating grin plastered on his face. 

Couldn't say the whole word, but still knew exactly what they were talking about, as usual. 

"Uh-huh. Don't give me that crap. You are way too smart to try and pull that over on me. Now, I'm almost done. Do you want to help me count Band-Aids?"

Matt did some kind of crazy hop-flip ninja move off the futon and came over to where Foggy had his medical kit spread out on the floor. He sat down carefully and Foggy handed him a box of butterfly closures. 

"Count these and tell me how many we have left. I'll work on the rest of this." 

Matt hummed happily and began counting. --- They finished the inventory an hour later, and had a good list of things they needed. As they prepared to go out, Foggy ambled downstairs to see if Karen had any requests. She hadn't surfaced from the garage all morning. He left Matt to check over the bags-- the guy's memory was spectacular, he never forgot a single thing-- and made his way down to the garage. 

Karen was sitting hunched over the workbench in the back. She didn't turn as Foggy came up behind her. She had been more withdrawn than usual in the last few days. She hadn't given any insight, and Foggy didn't pry. She was still doing better than when they had first been reunited, back when she went by Paige. She had slowly been coming back to them, and every day, a little bit more of the old Karen started shining through the hardened mask she had made for herself. 

Foggy understood. 

Hell's Kitchen had been burned and buried in rubble and everything they had ever known had been taken along with it. The only reason Foggy had survived at all had been because of Matt. Foggy wouldn't have made it without him. Matt had saved Foggy, body and mind, and sacrificed his own in return. Foggy tried not to think too hard about that. Karen had never shared the events that led to her being at the shelter, but Foggy had a suspicion that she had been alone through it all, and had hidden away the part of her that was bright and hopeful and loving in order to survive. To keep going. Foggy had to remind himself of that, remind himself to be patient, just like he did with Matt. They all had things that they couldn't control, damage that couldn't be undone. She didn't say anything as he stood there, so he started, 

"Hey. We're getting ready to go out. Do you have any requests? We have about," he checked his watch, "five hours of daylight left, so we have plenty of time." 

She continued to work on whatever it was she was doing, and didn't look at him when she replied.

"No, I don't need anything specific. Just the usual stuff is fine." 

Foggy rubbed a hand over his face, "Yeah, okay. We'll be back later. You have your whistle if you need us for anything."

She didn't respond-- typical-- and Foggy went back upstairs to get Matt. He was waiting patiently on the futon with his curtain rod. He had a concerned look on his face. 

"Karen, okay?" he asked. Foggy sighed, 

"Yeah, buddy. She's okay. She just gets sad sometimes. I think she starts to remember the bad stuff that happens, and it makes her sad. Maybe we can find something cool to bring back to her? Cheer her up."

"Foggy, yes!" He perked up at the idea. "I want to." 

"Cool. Awesome-Cheer-up-Karen-gift added to the list. Now let's go, before we run out of creepy green daylight." 

"Foggy Yes." Matt got up from the futon and headed for the window. Foggy stopped him. 

"Hey, dumbass, do I look like a ninja to you? Come on. We are using the door like normal people." 

Matt just grinned like an idiot and flew face-first out the window anyway. 

"Asshole," Foggy muttered, and made his way down the stairs to the garage door. 

This was going to be a long afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> It's a bit if a slow start but I promise there will be much trouble in store for our favorite apocalypse survivors. Remember to feed the review monster!! She is a bottomless pit, that one ♡♡♡


End file.
